Saturday, 31 July 2010

Into the walls of an elephant ghost we go dancing with potato sacks and several small carrier bags full of milk and spit. We fall through holes and cavort with the wrong side of the mirror. Our lungs become black balloons and we float into the sky.

We will aim for happiness and social acceptance and our art will be born out of the documentation of our embarrassing slide into a three sided mangle of ironic, testosterone soaked spasms of flesh and sauce fireworks and unnecessary 'isms'

The covert nature of the moon resides in the ephemeral contours of meat. The documentation of such engenders the palpable notion of concepts.

MSIISM MSIISM MSIISM syllable syllable syllable.

The poets vice is the construct of ruin and the taut, fleshy abdomens of ambiguity.

RESTRAIN ONLY THE WEAK.

In time we will all learn the warmth and roughness of the brick.

IMAGINATION / INSPIRATION / EVASION!

MSIISM is the space between the mirror and the reflection.

Reeling against the rungs of reality. We gather all of our gusto for the purpose of nothing and everything. We stand like mountains and fall like birds, a sea of headless feathers through which we wade.

The outcome?

The achievement of dissatisfaction and resentment.

MSIISM is pretentious. It aims not to impose but to re-adress the situation of ubiquity to it's complete insignificance.

A piffling, homogeneous representation, that shits in radial colours.

Like everything in life, MSIISM is utterly useless; A gaud inflection enveloped in gimmickry.

Invert your knowledge and transcend with a cheap sense of geometry; MSIISM is indignation with a pen and an uncompromising realisation that ideas are flabby.

MSSISM gives a platform for all people with ideas, and encourages nothing.